Diary of Jane
by Lyonene
Summary: Spin-off of End of Me, set during the alternate future presented in 5.04: The End and explores the relationship between Jane and Castiel. Jane learns about her purpose which causes a rift between her and Dean. Castiel is dealing with becoming human. Together they try to work through their pain while dealing with the aftermath of Sam's decision in Detroit and Dean's anger.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **The inspiration for this story is from my other story -my main Supernatural fic- End of Me, specifically the Croatoan Future chapters. You don't have to read End of Me, or those chapters to understand what's going on here, but it would probably help a lot. This is set in the alternate future presented in season 5's episode The End, and explores the relationship between Jane (original character) and Castiel.

* * *

><p><strong>1: Evil Angel<strong>

**Chuck** had to be kidding. Of all the crazy things to ever come out of his mouth, and his _I'm God_ bit until very recently been at the top of the list, this was by far the craziest. Jane just stared at him, at the notebooks he had presented her with, and tried to keep her hand down because it was itching to slap him silly. "You're not serious."

"It's all in there." He nodded, taking a step backwards because her intent was all over her face. "I don't know whether to say sorry or congratulations."

Dean was staring at Chuck out of tired eyes. "Not in the mood for your shit." He said flatly, glancing down at his wife. They had had a helluva long day, scavenging and fighting their way out of a stupid situation they had gotten themselves stuck in. All he wanted was a shower to wash the guts out of his hair and something to eat before passing out.

"Seriously, just read it. It might come in handy." Chuck smiled crookedly, feeling a bit awkward under their stares. "You know, being God's own experimental love doll." He was teasing her, trying to get her to crack a smile. Dean was a lost cause, the guy didn't smile much anymore.

"Experimental love doll?" Jane echoed, reaching out to take the notebooks. "What the hell?"

"It's pretty nifty really. God really must have liked playing mad scientist because he put you together from several different… uh, things. It's all in there."

Dean was paying attention now, his frown deepening. "What?"

Jane was walking away, taking the notebooks with her. Chuck's visions had been few and far between ever since Sam had said 'yes' in Detroit, agreeing to become the Devil's meat suit but occasionally he still got one. This had been the first in a few months, and given what she had just heard, she was very tempted to throw away the notebooks and pretend she hadn't heard it. This wasn't going to lead anywhere good. She could feel it.

* * *

><p>"<strong>What<strong> the hell are you doing, Castiel?" By now, Jane had perfected what she termed the 'step-mother' tone of voice. It came from living with a bunch of men. When everything had gone down, with Sam, Satan, end of the world as they knew it and the ensuing apocalypse, Castiel had been one of the few angels who had remained. The others who hadn't fled, and there hadn't been many, had either fallen in battle or simply… gone silent, perhaps into hiding. Castiel himself, he seemed to be losing his Heavenly mojo and in response had been sinking into what might have been some weird kind of angel depression. "I really hope you're not drinking that old crap of Bobby's…"

Bobby, who was dead, his house ransacked, and the majority of the valuable stuff was now gone. They had gone in of course, and taken what they could, what they might need, but it had felt wrong. It felt wrong now, seeing the canning jar of homemade liquor. She didn't know why the few remaining jars had been taken; it had no medicinal purposes unless you wanted the flesh stripped from your bones. It had been sitting, until now.

"I am drinking that old crap of Bobby's."

"Jesus…" She sat down beside him, reaching out to take the jar from him and held it up, frowning. "You've already drank half, Cas. I know angel tolerance is the best, but…"

"Nope. No tolerance." Castiel eyeballed her hand, reaching out to take back the jar and missing by quite a bit. "I can imbibe and…" He giggled suddenly, trying again, frowning when Jane poured what was left onto the ground. "Not okay, Janey."

Jane wasn't amused. Only Dean called her that and he hadn't spoken to her since the other night, instead occupying himself with those damn notebooks of Chuck's. She had been intending to read them herself but… he had gotten there first and didn't seem inclined to give them up. "Cassie."

He winced.

Silence reigned as Jane surveyed the scene before them. It wasn't much to look at really, just woods, something they had all become very used too as of late. They were keeping away from overly populated places right now, especially with Satan in the middle of his play. She knew why Castiel was drinking, he was depressed, and she didn't blame him. She didn't know what to say to him either. What did you say to an angel who was becoming less of an angel and more of a monkey?

Being human sucked.

* * *

><p>"<strong>Dean!"<strong>

"Get the hell away from me!"

Groaning, Castiel raised his head off what could have been a pillow. Nope, it was someone's bag… he reached back to rub the stiffness from his neck. That was new. He was becoming stiff… in the limbs, like humans. He had been lying here, perhaps dozing, he felt odd. Tired almost. They were accumulating a little caravan of survivors, which was both good and bad. Good because it meant maybe, just maybe, they had a chance, there was hope. Bad because too many people in a group tended to attract attention and that was something they didn't need.

Frowning, he sat up, ignoring how cold the bed of the pick-up truck he was lying in had gotten. Jane was scrambling away from Dean, who –contrary to his words of telling her to get away- was stalking after her. In his hands was a notebook, Castiel recognized it as one of Chuck's. The prophet had been busy and whatever it was he had been writing down apparently hadn't gone over well.

"Dean, please!" Jane was retreating and pleading at the same time, looking panicky and hurt, her usually pale face splotched with red. "I didn't know!"

"Bullshit!" Dean threw the notebooks at her. "Bullshit Jane! How long have you been-" He stopped, stuffing his fist in his mouth and bit down.

Castiel was on the ground now, regretting it because his head was pounding. Maybe drinking wasn't a vice he needed to take up. Forgetting was great but the aftermath was beginning to hurt, especially since he still had to drink fairly large amounts to get a proper drunk on. "Let's calm down." He said, his already raspy voice coming out like shards of broken glass had taken residence in his throat.

"You knew about her!" Dean whirled on him, apparently looking for an outlet to his anger. "You knew she was some sort of… a frickin' evil angel! That's why you've been… whatever the hell it is you do with her!"

"What?"

"Her dreams, you always showed up in her damn dreams, now I know why!"

"Dean, it's not like that, I swear-"

"Shut up, Jane!"

Castiel went reeling backwards when Dean punched him. It had hurt.

"Dean!" Jane was aware that a crowd was forming around them, eyeballing them all curiously. Dean was technically the de facto leader of their motley group and him losing it like this probably wasn't boosting confidence levels. "Stop it!"

He halted his advancing of Castiel, taking deep breaths as he regarded her, calming himself down. "Stay away from me, Jane." He said finally, flatly.

Cue the waterworks. She had done so well, suppressing them, but him saying that… it cut right through her. "Dean…"

"I've got to think. I can't do that with you around." His face scrunched up in thought. "Hell, maybe I never could."


	2. Untrustworthy

**A/N: **I have messed up some things from The End episode, like apparently when Bobby dies and the picture of him and Dean and the rest at Camp C, sorry!

**2: Untrustworthy**

* * *

><p>It was a week before Dean finally spoke to her again. They had been traveling almost non-stop it seemed, and she had been riding with Chuck. He had managed to steal car some time ago but the way it clunked, she was sure it would go at any given moment. They just didn't have the time, or tools, to stop and fix it properly.<p>

She had no idea where they were, she had stopped looking at maps a long time ago. She did know that they avoided what had been major cities, most of them were in panic as people scrambled to make sense of what was going on, still believing they could somehow control the "new virus" that had come on the scene.

She was sitting on the outskirts of the little camp the group had assembled, listening as the other debated on whether or not it would be worth it for some of them to return to one of the little towns they had passed by. They were running low on basic supplies and she was probably not the only one who was tired of eating canned baked beans. Dean had walked over to stand in front of her, his expression strangely calm. She had hoped that meant he was done ignoring her and ready to… well, not forgive her because as far as she was concerned, she hadn't done anything wrong. She was still confused about this entire God thing. Chuck had explained it as best as he was able but… still, it was a lot to wrap her head around.

"So far, damn near everything from Heaven, or that has to do with _God_ has been nothing but trouble for me." He said flatly. "And it seems that you aren't any different, Jane."

"Dean-" She bit her lip when he held up a hand for silence.

"Castiel swears up and down nobody knew about you, that you really are God's last piece of handiwork. And that just makes it worse because so far, God hasn't done much besides keep dragging us back to suffer." He sighed, eyes squinting as he tilted his head back to look up towards the sun. "How long have you known?"

"I didn't."

"I find that hard to believe Jane. Just like I find it hard to believe you didn't know you can't be possessed."

"I can't?" That was news to her. Maybe Chuck hadn't told her everything.

He chuckled humorlessly. "You can stop Jane, I know now. No point in keeping up with the lies."

"Dean, I'm not-"

"You can stay. You're useful to me still. But…" He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself and Jane felt her stomach clench. "As far as I'm concerned, we're done."

"No, Dean, that's-"

"Not up for debate. Maybe time will change things but right now… with everything going on, and with everything that's happened, I just can't do it. I've spent years running from Heaven and it's bitches only to find out that you're one of them and you've been here all this time."

"Exactly!" She was standing at this point, moving until she was directly before him. "I _have_ been here all this time, Dean, at your _side_. I've been fighting with you, not against you."

"Maybe. Or this is some jacked up game and I just don't know the rules yet."

* * *

><p>"<strong>What<strong> are you doing now, Cas?"

Castiel looked up from the plot of land he was considering, flashing Jane a grin. He watched as she picked her way towards him, noting the duct taped repaired, circular laundry basket on her hip. They had been here, at Camp Chitaqua for about a year now and even with the world slipping deeper into its hell in a hand basket state, they were somehow surviving. Apparently it had been a place Bobby had brought Dean at the beginning of all this, before he had been murdered. "I'm thinking of growing another section here."

Jane rolled her eyes, shifting the basket, which was full of freshly washed laundry, to her other hip. Everyone here pitched in. if you couldn't be useful then you were tossed out on your ass. Dean had made it clear time and again that he wasn't housing, feeding, or protecting anyone who didn't earn their keep and then some. She had been removed from 'active' duty and was usually kept here at the compound. Whenever new people were brought in, she was there for their processing to 'read' them and she was sent around the perimeter of the camp at regular hours to scan for potential threats, but mainly her job duties were glorified housewife for everyone.

Okay, technically, she shared these duties with everyone else, but nobody else was kept 'grounded' the way she was. Insult to injury had been when Dean had announced she was lead 'housekeeper' and medicine woman –their doctor had died- which meant she was in charge of making people do what they should have done to begin with. Pick up after themselves, keep their persons clean (lice and body odor would kill her eventually), and tend to wounds.

Chuck had found himself in a similar position, he was in charge of inventory and passing everything out. that was a job Jane was quite pleased she didn't have to deal with because there was nothing quite like having a group of people demanding for stuff ahead of schedule.

Castiel, on the other hand, was a floater of sorts. He did whatever Dean asked him to and in his spare time grew weed and was fashioning himself as quite a… ho. Though he didn't quite use that term. He was becoming human, rapidly, and had taken an interest in mortal pleasures. Jane suspected it was his way of dealing.

"Of all the things we're trying to grow, you succeed with a plant we can't eat."

"Why would you want to eat it?" He took the basket from her, leading the way towards the chains that had been strung up to hang laundry from. "It's much better when smoked." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, taking note of the pinched look on her face, it was becoming usual for her. He didn't think he liked it. "Been talking to Dean, haven't you?"

"Was it that obvious?"

"You always have this 'look' when you do."

"He wanted to run some things by me, the usual."

Castile let it drop. Jane had been waiting a year now for Dean to change his mind about her and so far, the only thing Dean had done was grow more distant. A lot of it had to do with Lucifer, or at least that was what Castiel was assuming. It seemed like every day they were hearing more and more about Satan and his excursions in Sam's body, and it was driving Dean further over the edge. He sat the basket down once they had reached the chain, quietly helping her to string up the laundry.

Jane didn't bother breaking the silence, working alongside him in amicable peace and quiet. It was hard, sometimes, remembering that life hadn't always been this messed up. A few years ago she was riding around with her boys, trying to save the world, and fairly crazy in love. Now she was a mother-hen to people she didn't know, her husband didn't care about her outside of her ability to be useful, and the world as they knew it was on its last leg. If this was the purpose God had intended her for, something was majorly messed up.

"Finished." Cas announced once the last shirt had been strung up, stepping back to survey their work. He could remember popping in on her once, long ago, when she had hanging up laundry for herself and Bobby. It had confused him at the time. It confused him now because it was a tedious task and he didn't understand why she accepted being everyone's drudge. "You know, you don't have to do all this menial labor. Dean would give you something else to do if you asked him."

"No, he wouldn't. He doesn't trust me. He thinks I'm Heaven's bitch or something."

"You're his bitch."

"Gee, thanks Castiel."


End file.
